


Choices Made

by OnBehalfOfTheBunnies



Series: Forever [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnBehalfOfTheBunnies/pseuds/OnBehalfOfTheBunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If The Parting of the Ways had ended differently, and Rose was able to journey on with her Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a draft draft drafty draft, I have so very many pages to transcribe, flesh out, edit, and reorder I'll try to update this in a way that makes sense, but as long as this note is here it is an in-progress draft and things may not make sense or there may be spoilers for things not yet uploaded. Additionally this has morphed over time from being strictly focusing on 10 and Rose to incorporate in Bad Wolf, the TARDIS entity, and Jack.
> 
> Not for kids, at all. No, nay, never - even if it doesn't seem like it yet.

It takes two weeks since I chose to stay. Thirteen nights passed to grieve the family I'll never see again. 

It happened so fast. I was being dragged towards nothingness, when Pete somehow knew to hop back and catch me, his relative “cleanliness” a buffer against the pull. On our immediate return to his universe I shoved away from him in a dead run, Mum’s open arms…she must have thought I was running to her, instead I had snatched the button from Pete and was just getting those precious few feet I needed to try and grab onto the thin metal supports back where I belonged. Diving down I hit the button and managed to reappear and wrap myself between them before I could fall back in. 

The pull wavered as the opening collapsed upon itself. And almost instantly he was at my side, crushing me in a hug. There was no time for tears as we spend the rest of the day assisting wounded survivors and helping organize cleanup crews and memorials before, gritty and exhausted, we trudge back to the TARDIS. This is no victory march, even though we “won.”

The Doctor promises me he’ll find a way for me to say goodbye and between the time it takes for us to board the TARDIS and him to set a destination the solution is found. I call for them until his screen shows something positive and he starts to drain the power in earnest. It is bittersweet. The hope that filled my mum's eyes, when she first delights that we’ve found a way back, dashed when she runs right through the projected version of us. She and Pete wasted no time since she’s already pregnant. A little brother or sister I’ll never meet, it hurts to think of that and an ugly hint of jealousy sneaks across a thought, ‘You’re already being replaced.’ I shove that to a hidden corner of my mind and beam the brightest smile I can, “You’ll finally get to live the life you never had with Dad.”

She sobs as I tell her I love her, and I take the opportunity to demand Pete treat her the way she deserves. Half way through the star is exhausted and the transmission fades out. The Doctor holds me tight as I break down, swatting at him, snotty and hiccuping when he continued to apologize. Catching my breath and wiping my nose on my sleeve I glare daggers at him "Don't you dare, this was my choice. I just...I just...she'll be happy. I know it. And so will we." 

When I seem to run out of tears he does as I ask, parking the TARDIS in the center of what was Mum’s flat. It feels like eternity but the clock says it's mere hours as I carefully pick through the belongings, unable to allow all of them to be left to looters or end up in the bin when what was home will be discovered abandoned and cleaned out for the next occupant. Any souvenirs and gifts from my travels, photos, videos and mementos that I irreplaceably cherish go into one large trunk, next a small pack is stuffed full of less precious items that I had never quite bothered to clear out. Without needing to ask he deposits the heavy trunk carefully in what will be my new home, then flies us off to a mindless distraction, the unveiling ceremony of the first craft that will carry human life outside our solar system.

After a night’s fitful sleep Doctor surprises me, landing us on a small moon with a name I can’t pronounce, and pushing a heavy satchel into my hands. “They’re all the types you said were Jackie’s favorites…and yours. I’ve already prepared the soil while you were asleep, you just need to sow them.”

I glance inside and run my fingers through millions of flower seeds, tubers and bulbs, with a few delicate saplings, no larger than a finger, packed in moss.

“Not all of them will grow, but they won’t harm the native wildlife.”

I spend the day slowly trailing them from my hands, gently packing down dirt over the fragile roots in wide clusters, and circling the small pond twice until I’ve emptied, and he’s refilled, the bag five times. When his supply is finally exhausted he dashes us back to the TARDIS and loops us in and out of the vortex before bouncing back to the door, waiting for me. 

I push it open and stare out into what had been bare seconds before. “Oh Doctor,” I feel tears prick my eyes as I gaze upon the lush landscape “it’s so beautiful.” The flowers stretch as far as I can see. Many I recognize, at least vaguely, others must have adapted and evolved into new shapes and colors and their heady perfume rolls across us in a gentle breeze that startles up jewel-like insects that quickly nestle back down to gorge on pollen and nectar. 

We walk through the blooms, hand in hand, gathering a small bouquet that he promises to preserve for me. On our way back I throw my arms around him in a hug that he returns. Pushing up to my toes I brush my lips against his, whispering a thank you.

He seems uncertain of what to do. No such hesitation on my side, I made my choice, I need this. He goes along as I deepen the kiss sliding my hand to stroke along the back of his neck. He dips me back slightly, with a contented hum against my lips that rises in faint alarm when he tumbles forward, off balance. His arm shoots out, trying to slow the impact while I land on my bum. Laughing I pull him close again. The leisurely crushing of petals as his weight settles against me envelops us in delicate sweetness, and I respond to a tentative dart of his tongue against my lips with a hum of approval. 

I am still clutching the bouquet carefully in the hand behind his back but use the other to scratch soft trails against his scalp. His tongue grows more daring, mirroring mine as we tease each other, I can feel his fingertips just under the hem of my shirt when there is a low whirr and buzz dragging at our attention.

“Not supposed to pick the flowers,” an ancient voice scolds. A squeak that I don’t think comes from me, then we hastily scramble apart, the Doctor catching the small bouquet as it slips from my grip, shoving it into his pocket.

“What?” I ask, trying to distract the tiny man, feeling like a kid caught with a mouth full of biscuits and a hand in the jar.

“Remembrance Grotto is protected as a galaxy heritage site, you can’t pick the flowers. There are big fines.” His arms travel up and down in a looping pattern as the whirring continues from a small object. He glances down when it glows green, pressing a button to display a wavering holo-vid of one of the bugs. “I won’t tell if you quit now, but some of these are unique and are the only food source for these little beasties.” He jerks his head to the side and in the next instant we are forgotten as he dashes off to chase a deep red one, crying “Wait my beauty! Just one picture!”

I stifle a giggle, the interruption a metaphorical bucket of ice on our lost moment. He grins and taps my nose, “Yes Rose, let’s not destroy the delicate ecosystem,” laughter in his voice as he pulls me back to the TARDIS.

The next few hours are spent, not in amorous activities but in preserving the small cluster of blooms before they wilt, he insists on doing this quickly. Individually necessary to do this thing that seems to glaze each flower in a delicate shell of crystal after I dust them with a pale powder and he spends a moment with them and his sonic. He twists and bends a few so they can be woven together as a bouquet. I find the perfect place to display them, carefully binding the bunch with the strap of the bag that held the seeds I loop and manipulate everything until it hangs on a newly appeared hook above the console. The stems nestle into the bag, some leaves and all the blooms spilling out in bursts of color, just enough slack in the line so the bag could sway with the imperceptible movements of the ship without spilling out or falling. 

I make my final adjustments, grabbing the last flower as he goes sliding round the side to a flickering light. Pressing buttons fills the nearby screen with concerned faces, all talking at once. “Well it looks like our services are needed. Off to save the distressed!”

Our travels start to resume at a dialed back level of intensity, and after crossing another day off my calendar, days filled mostly with markets, spas, festivals, and fluff I consider that they were, surprisingly uneventful when compared to our normally perilous travels. Our hugs may be a fraction longer, a brief celebratory kiss in the fleeting seconds before we are dashing to the TARDIS, an almost, but not quite, lingering touch on my leg or stomach while I massage his scalp as we sprawl together watching a late night movie but that is as far as it goes. I amp up my flirty innuendo, but never seem to find an appropriate time to push things further. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draft, draft, NSFW draft.  
> At least it's another 2000 of the 70,000 words I've typed for these two stories posted - only two notebooks to transcribe and flesh out a bit, and making what I have fit together to go...

On the fourteenth day of this new adventure it dawns on me that I could wait my lifetime if expecting any sign of him to be the aggressor. In every other way he acts a leader, a general, bravely striding forward, but never in this arena, at least not in my experience. I didn’t miss the startled but thrilled look on his face when Cassandra facilitated our first kiss, at the thought something seems to tickle in my mind making that classification seem not quite right.

After tea I insist on a shower instead of running off to see some new wonder, he pouts but immediately lists off a set of things to tinker with. Giving him a grin and wink I suggest he joins me instead. Obviously he doesn’t understand my request as he babbles off about the ancient baths of Alipsund 20 and the multicolor Fountains of Peace.

Instead of a frantic shag pushed up against the tiles as I’ve imagined among many other things since he still wore his other form, I scrub, brush, and shave myself clean and smooth. My mind lingers on those fantasies longer than usual until feeling bold with my plan, after toweling my hair and skin dry, I leave my robe in the bathroom, striding through the halls to the wardrobe room. I do not run across the Doctor in my nude state, though that’s probably for the best, he’d probably swoon in bundle of nervous shock, that or warn me I needed to dress warmer to avoid catching a chill.

Scouring through the racks of clothes I find the perfect skirt, it sits high and tight on my waist, transitioning to rest on my hips and loosely swirls to end just above my knees. A fitted top that zips up the front in a pale lavender with deep navy embroidery that matches the skirt is gorgeous and only a bit too tight unless I nudge the zipper down. It takes a full ten minutes to find a handful of shoes that aren’t trainers, boots, or out of size, and there is no use trying to navigate the grating with stilettos. Eventually selecting the dark leather sandals that lace up my calves I take a few steps, satisfied with the few inches they add to my height with their thick heels. Attaching the TARDIS key on a new chain that loops twice round my neck then nestles between my breasts and a hint of makeup I study myself in the mirror. No clichéd seductress that he’d find a way to distantly flee from, no pristine innocent to treat as a fragile creature who would either break or not know what she wants, I feel perfect. Comfortable, confident, and ready to handle anything he could try to play to delay this even further.

I stride into the console room to find him seated on a box, fiddling with a vaguely snail shaped bauble that thrums a low tone. He must hear me approach and turns on a winning smile without glancing up, “Rose, look! I found my missing tactelo-“

“Mm hmm.” I hum, cutting him off while perching across his knees, mimicking his smile.

He briefly meets my eyes at that but rambles on, returning his focus on the objects’ flickering lights. “I thought it got misplaced on…” I circle his free wrist with my fingers, gently coaxing it down to the box beside him, and lacing our hands together.

“…Well I say bounce but really it erupted in this vibrant…” He doesn’t even seem to notice until I run my other hand up the back of his neck, into that gorgeous hair and tug him forward for a brief gentle kiss.

“Doctor I’m done with the teasing,” I murmur as he stutters for a train of thought. A shift to straddle his thighs and kiss him again has him tensing slightly. I tilt my head and nuzzle against his cheek. “All these years of flirting and foreplay, I think it’s well past time we-.“ There is a buzzing hum near my ear and I pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.

The formerly lost object has been replaced with his sonic screwdriver that is apparently checking for something. He has the grace to look embarrassed when he glances back at my face and gives a meek, “Was just checking.”

I release my grip on him, leaning back ever so slightly to let my hands fall to my sides. “Checking for what? Alien possession, drugs, common sense? By all means, do a thorough job.” I let the faint hint of annoyance slip into my tone.

He looks nervous, like prey that senses a trap “Rose this isn’t…like you.”

This is definitely not how I expected the conversation to go, he knows how I feel… “It is very like me. I’ve played it slow because you never seemed quite ready, but I think it’s time to make some progress our relationship.” 

“Re-relationship?” His eyes are wide, almost shocked.

_Ouch._ I backpedal to stand, confidence shattered, plastering a smile on my face. Did I misinterpret? I thought we were…does he not…am I just an “odd human habit” to him? “Nevermind,” I side step his reach, gently batting the hand with the sonic away, “I’m jos’ gonna check…something.” 

Long strides have me out of the room before I have to find a better excuse. I go three steps into the hall before hearing him repeat his query. Now mortified I sprint in retreat, going from hall to hall, past my room, the kitchen, the media room, pool and library, long minutes of running past rooms I don’t recognize before realizing the hallway is becoming a long loop, passing me by my room every minute or so. None of that! I need to ground myself in private. Ignoring the slight stitch in my ribs I take a nearby stairwell, going down two dark flights before something darts out and catches my arm.

With a startled yelp I am pulled to a stop. A familiar “Shh,” is all he says before wrapping me in a tight hug. Can’t he let me lick my wounds in peace then act like nothing happened as usual?

I try to wipe emotion from my voice, “Doctor-“

“SHH!” He cuts me off, so we stand in silence other than our breathing. After a moment he gives a quiet “Sorry, that was rude of me, I was just…you just…was a bit startled.”

Fingers lace with mine he guides me through a bright door that wasn’t three steps away a moment ago. Eyes adjusting to the light I let him lead me back through the room I fled from. Settling on the jump seat instead of the box he hums a foreign tune to himself, guiding me back to my earlier position. After coaxing my hand back to his wrist he pushes his glasses a fraction further up his nose. A quick once over, nodding to himself he gives me a grin. “Now, let’s try this again.”

Ego and heart still bruised I shrug.

“Ok, well yes, I guess it is my turn isn’t it.” He makes a couple awkward motions, as if not quite sure how to approach, then dips his head to press his lips to mine. At first it is mechanical, more theory than experience I assume, but I close my eyes and it grows slowly and not quite tentatively into more. Heart still half nursing the earlier rejection I let him lead. He must be nervous, this is change, and if his “limited” choice of wardrobe is a sign of anything it’s that he is wary of change. Breaking away for a breath he quietly pants to catch his breath, our eyes meet for a second then the warmth is back, more insistent.

It has been a long time since I had a right and proper making out, so I luxuriate in it. Soft caresses to my face, a teasing touch of tongue, I respond with fingertips gently scritching against his scalp. It feels natural to nuzzle into his neck, kissing and nipping as he pulls me tight. He helps to coax his jacket off, so I trail my fingers down his arms and let the fabric crumple to the floor. He captures my mouth again and I trail the crease of his lips with my tongue. 

Drinking in everything, the feel of his skin, the scent that is uniquely him – spice and storms and time, the low noises from his throat, I set this to memory. His fingertips ghost over my leg and I shift to lightly grind against him, and the embers of need, lightly banked since my shower flicker through me in low places. We both moan into the kiss and his hands move to grasp my hips, guiding my steady rocking. He captures my lower lip between his teeth, nipping and sucking while tightening to a near bruising grip as I find a delicious pace of friction against the unfamiliar feel of his arousal. 

He takes a deep breath and softly groans. A small wiggle to shift my legs wider and that smooth rubbing sends a shiver through me. I feel his thighs tensing under me and his grip flex, tightening and easing as if uncertain which is better.

“Rose you’re so…mmmm,” He grinds the cloth covered ridge of his erection hard against me, “my perfect Rose.” 

I moan my approval and fist my fingers in his hair, tugging in time with his motions. “Please?” 

He speeds up at my needy whimper, I almost miss his low gasped, “ _fuck_ ,” apparently the translation is no longer censored. The following hushed words are as unfamiliar as they are teasing against my skin, “Oh Rose, I want to be slow, gentle.” He sharply nips the hollow of my throat, “To drag climax after climax out of you with my mouth, hands,” his fingers caress over my breasts then slid back down to my hips, “and cock,” thrusting insistently against me. 

In one fluid move the Doctor reverses us so I am perched and leaning back into the seat with his body endless inches away. Moving a trailing touch from my ankle up the back of my calf, then nudging my knees further apart to the sides of his hips he leans in for another kiss. I hook my feet behind the small of his back, my knees falling open in a path for his hand to follow, he starts to pull back but I tug his tie keeping him close. Caressing his fingertips up the inside of my thigh he drags up past my skirt, “I want to make you scream my name until it echoes across the stars.” 

As his fingers slide closer to where I need them he slows, “But right now,” I rock my hips up whimpering as he inches along, “I just want,” up, up…”to t-t…” he stutters to a halt as I moan. A deep inhale and his fingers twitch, strumming across my wet folds. “Ms. Tyler,” he groans, hesitating for a second before sinking a finger inside me, “where are your knickers?”

“Mmmm,” I plead, fumbling at the front clasp of his trousers, feeling the delicious hot coil building in me aching for- “More.” Wrapping his tie around my hand I force a stare deep into his wide, lust darkened eyes and smirk, slipping my hand under the waist of his suit. It is his turn to whimper as I draw my thumb over the slick tip of him. His hips thrust forward in the same slow tempo as his hand.

I bite into my lip, eyes squeezing shut with a muffled curse as he grinds the heel of his palm against my clit, letting a second finger join the first.

“How does that feel?” My hand squeezes around him, twisting my wrist slightly and his question ends in a sharp hiss. I want more, his naked skin pressed against mine, more than his fingers filling me, more of this first, but all I can do is moan a desperate ‘please.’

His motions, pumping his cock into my hand and his fingers into my wet heat, grow erratic. I force myself to open my eyes, needing to see his face in this moment as the pressure nears breaking. The mask of passion over his features seals into my mind, his eyes widen with mine as my entire body tenses then with a cry I am lost in the searing waves of my bliss. A strangled word meets my ringing ears a second later, and I feel the hot pulses of his release into my hand.

As we both still his body slumps forward, the only sounds are our panting while trying to catch our breaths and the low constant hum of the ship. The Doctor nuzzles against me starting to say something and failing. After a moment of hot breaths against my jaw he murmurs, “I’ll…I’ll have you know,” a soft kiss presses to my throat, “that was not-” 

A deafening crash and ugly blaring tone cuts him off as we are violently pitched towards the opposite wall. 


End file.
